Seven Kisses, Seven Wishes
by Bookworm-By-Day
Summary: Seven kisses throughout Dominique Weasley's life - the good, the bad, and the most memorable.


**Author's Note**: Okay. This is my first story on this site, and it's also my entry for femme fetal's The Seven Kisses Challenge. So, I hope you enjoy!

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**i.**

Lysander raced past the sprouting garden, his determined feet falling with noisy _splats _against the dewy grass. Dominique, blonde ponytail bobbing, clumsily followed him in her new sandals, hoping that no mud would splash on them. Her face, despite the internal worrying, was set in a scowl, and an apple red color was rising into her cheeks. She was angry, most definitely, and a Weasley temper was never a good thing.

"Scamander, you better give me that broomstick, or you'll be sorry!"

The boy simply looked over his shoulder, dark hair flopping into aqua-colored eyes, and stuck his tongue out at her. This, more than any of his teasing or poking or bullying, annoyed her; she was tired of him and others, especially her siblings, who seemed to take her reserved demeanor as a pass to walk all over her. No, she wouldn't take it anymore.

With that final thought, Dominique took a flying leap and landed on top of Lysander, knocking him to the ground along with both of their breathes. Her wiry frame wrestled with him, forcefully trying to rip the toy broom out of his hands. The boy refused to let go, pushing her back and leaping atop her. She squealed, squirming and unsuccessfully trying to release herself from his grasp.

"Let me go!" she screamed, hoping that one of her family members would hear. "Stop it! I'm telling my mum, you –"

Then, quick as a flash, Lysander pressed his chapped lips to her own. The peck lasted only a second, as any childish kiss does, but it was enough to shake up Dominique. As the boy hopped up, grinning mischievously and gripping the broom even tighter, she continued to lay there in a stunned silence. It was only when she realized that her dress was ruined by the wet grass and dirt that she stood back up, screaming angrily after him.

She wished that he hadn't taken her broom, and her first kiss, away.

**ii.**

Teddy – his hair was a plum purple that day – stretched to reach the top of the bookshelf. His mahogany sweater rode up, giving the group of first years ogling him a chance to stare at his toned, lightly tanned stomach. Dominique glared at the girls as they passed. She always felt especially protective of her friend, despite being three years younger than him. Plus, she admired Teddy enough for the whole of Hogwarts, not that she would ever admit that.

He looked at her, as if feeling those eyes burning into his skull, and enthusiastically waved. She nodded in reply, blushing a bit, and returned to reading about flobberworms. She couldn't focus, knowing that the boy she had fancied for nearly a year stood so close. Despite her low marks in Care of Magical Creatures, and despite promising her parents that she would do better, Dominique hastily gathered her bag and stuffed it full with quill and parchment.

She slammed shut _Magical Creatures and You _and strolled to the lines of bookshelves, attempting to remember when she had first fallen for Teddy Lupin. As kids, they barely paid attention to one another, too caught up in their own childish games. But during her first year at Hogwarts, they forged a quick bond after he defended her from a group of trouble-making Slytherins. A few months later, she loved him more than anything in the whole world, despite his obvious admiration of her sister. But everyone adored Victoire; it was nothing new.

Dominique struggled to place the book in its correct spot, quietly cursing her short stature. Suddenly, a warm presence appeared behind her, causing her to leap nearly a foot in the air. It wasn't until a familiar hand followed that her heart calmed and she stopped her efforts. Teddy, chivalrous as always, grabbed the hefty object from her grasp and easily placed it on the shelf. She turned to him, smiling.

"Thank you, but couldn't you have been a bit louder, instead of sneaking up on me?"

He ran a hand through his bright hair, smirking. "Sorry, but it's a library. I have a duty to stay quiet, you know."

She giggled. "Oh, yes, but I think old Madam Pince has a crush on you. You can probably get away with anything, you're so damn charming."

Teddy didn't reply, only intently grinned at her. Dominique's first thought was that she had a piece of spinach in her teeth, or an ungainly pimple on her face. But, no, that wasn't it. The way he was looking at her, absorbing every single one of her features, had nothing to do with some embarrassing facial mishap. She knew that, and her thoughts were confirmed when he leaned forward and kissed her square on the mouth, lightly resting a hand on her cheek. She melted into him, because this was a kiss, a _real_ kiss. And incredible Teddy Lupin was the one giving it to her.

She wished that she could live in that moment forever.

**iii.**

Marcus Wood strolled up to the Shrieking Shack, head bowed against the falling snow. His quidditch teammates joked and laughed, playfully pushing one another, but he remained uncharacteristically silent. His eyes were set straight ahead, on an angelic figure whose thin arms were crossed tightly beneath her chest, face shielded by a thick mass of golden hair.

Dominique was staring into the distance, admiring the snowy scenery surrounding the Shack's rickety form. Her flushed cheeks were dotted with chilled tears that she hadn't bothered to wipe away, so accustomed she was to them. For the past month, she had cried almost daily, usually while staring at the darkened roof of the girls' dorm. It was all for the sake of Teddy Lupin, each and every one of those salty tears.

"Hello, Weasley."

She turned her head and nodded at the boy standing next to her. "Good morning, Wood."

He simply smiled, deepening those ever-present dimples. Dominique and the burly quidditch player were acquaintances, she supposed, if you called sitting by one other in Muggle Studies such a thing. They spoke every so often, about the weather and lessons or quidditch, but she was still surprised that he was ignoring his friends, who were already heading back towards Hogsmeade, to spend time with her.

"You look sad," Marcus commented, leaning against the fence surrounding the supposedly haunted Shack. "I mean, I've noticed the way you stare off into space lately, and I wanted to make sure you were alright."

She just looked at him, unblinkingly, and wondered if her depression was honestly _that _apparent. "I'm fine, okay?"

"Okay." He nodded. "I believe you."

They stood there, silently, for a long while. Dominique didn't understand why Marcus stayed, and she didn't care to. He was a good person, she knew; kind and charming, he was present in nearly every girl's fantasy. He was undeniably handsome, but the only man she could possibly think of was Teddy, who was at this very moment snuggling with Victoire at the Three Broomsticks. After their unexpected kiss last spring, Teddy stopped spending time with her, refusing to speak of their moment of intimacy. Dominique wondered if it was something she had done, although her friend Mary insisted he was just a prick who was afraid of commitment. She knew this wasn't true, deep in her heart, but it still came as an unexpected blow when news of his budding relationship spread.

Dominique sighed and rubbed her eyes, which were again filling with tears. Her companion glanced at her, eyebrows knit in concern. "I – I'm not fine, actually. Not at all."

Marcus was there in seconds, his arms wrapping around her body as she began to shake with tears. He patted down her hair, whispered encouraging words in her ear. She gazed into his eyes, seeing all the raw emotions that lived there. She kissed him, then, knowing that it was what he wanted. She didn't want to lose this, to lose his gentle nature and warm touch. So, she kissed him some more, and when he pulled away, she gently smiled at the goofy expression playing across his face.

"Come on." Marcus's voice was husky, hoarse. "Let's grab a coffee, okay?"

Dominique nodded, flinching only the slightest when he grabbed her small hand with his own meaty one. This could work. He adored her, she liked his optimism, and they made an attractive couple. Her father would be excited, glad to have someone to talk quidditch with, and her mother would be happy just because she was finally dating. Yes, she decided as he squeezed her wrist, this could definitely work.

But then they passed by the Three Broomsticks, and the sight of two Hogwarts students –one blonde and the other turquoise, one petite and the other tall, both cuddling – sent a shiver down her spin.

She wished that Teddy's hand were the one holding her own.

**iv.**

Mary sifted through her box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavored Beans, a birthday gift from her grandmother, and grabbed a handful of the more delectable flavor: strawberry, boysenberry, and pumpkin. She tossed the lot in her mouth, leaned back on the comfortable bed, and waited for her friend to continue speaking.

"I just don't know," Dominique lamented, picking at her thumbnail, "what to do about Marcus."

"Hex him," Mary blatantly said. "I mean, you broke up with him before summer break, _months _ago. He needs to stop acting like a bloody stalker."

Dominique bit her bottom lip. "I know, but I don't want to hurt him."

Mary rolled her eyes and leaned against her friend's pale shoulder. "Honestly, you deserve someone better, someone who will treat you like the queen you are."

Smiling, Dominique grabbed her own handful of beans, grateful for her friend's encouraging words. She had known Mary, the daughter of two successful aurors, since she was about ten, when her Uncle Harry had invited the Macmillan family to his housewarming party. The young girls were instantly joined at the hip, poking fun at Victoire's hideous haircut and giggling when Uncle George tinged the punch with a special potion, which temporarily turned all the guests an unfortunate shade of green. Needless to say, they couldn't have been more excited the day they were both sorted into the same house.

"So," Dominique slyly began, knocking her companion's shoulder, "how are you and dear Simon doing?"

Mary shrugged, her face flushing in an embarrassed way. "Oh, just an odd snog here and there, nothing major. We haven't seen each other in weeks."

"Don't you ever wish for a real relationship?" Dominique inquired, leaning closer to her roommate. "Like, one where you two actually speak everyday and do something besides kiss?"

"No," Mary muttered, hiding her face away from the blonde girl's questioning gaze. "Men are worthless, only good for one thing."

"That isn't true!" Dominique insisted, loudly. "How can you be so cynical? When you find someone you love, then there will definitely be more to them than quick romps in the broom closet."

Mary shook her head, silencing Dominique. "I know, I know. I just don't think there's a guy for me."

"What?" Those blue eyes were confused, perplexed. "No, of course there's a guy for you."

"No, you don't understand!" Mary hissed. "God, Dom, I don't like boys, okay?"

"Um, you don't…"

Then, Mary kissed her, placing a confining hand on her shoulder. Dominique's eyes remained open in surprise, not registering what was happening. It was only when her friend's hand strayed to her collarbone that she jumped back, blinking wildly.

"What the hell was that for?" she screeched, protectively wrapping her arms around herself.

"I don't know," Mary replied, her voice soft. "I just wanted to tell you how I felt."

Dominique's face contorted into a dismayed frown, fully understanding the meaning of the words 'how I felt'. Quietly, she said, "I think I'm going to sleep in the common room tonight, okay?"

Tears were threatening to spill out of Mary's eyes as Dominique grabbed a pillow and blanket, rushing down the stairs. Watching her go, Mary harshly snapped, "Fine! Maybe your pathetic little Marcus will come along to keep you company."

She wished that she hadn't hurt her best friend.

**v.**

Lysander crossed his arms behind his head. It was a clear night, and he could see every star twinkling above. In the distance, far from his current location at the lake, he could hear the jovial laughs as his classmates celebrated the final day of school. They were happy, glad to be done with exams and classes. He himself was melancholy, sad at the thought of the real world crashing down on him.

Dominique watched from a distance as her childhood rival lazed on the ground. They hadn't spoken in years, but she felt as if they owed one another a final conversation before they were officially graduates. She walked across the grass, noticing how the moonlight brought out the boy's luminous eyes, and took a seat beside him.

He nodded at her, indifferent. "Oh, hello, Weasel. What a pleasure to see you here."

"Same to you, _Scum_ander," she replied, rolling her eyes.

A smirk broke out across Lysander's face, and Dominique couldn't help but return the expression. They weren't friends by any means, but she did admire his intelligence and wit, although they were usually administered at her expense. She had no idea what exactly he liked about her, but there had to be something, even if it was only her sweet-smelling perfume.

"So, we're adults now," Lysander said, frowning, "but I don't think I particularly like it."

"Why not?" Dominique asked. She laid beside him, observing his serious expression. For the first time, she realized how good-looking he truly was. "We aren't going to be treated like children anymore. Isn't that something to look forward to?"

"Yeah, I guess." He turned to her, intently. She internally squirmed, wondering what exactly he was thinking. Did she sound ignorant? Did he find her obnoxious, still? "I just feel like time is moving too fast. Hogwarts has a lot of great memories."

Dominique considered his words, slowly gathering a reply. "I don't know. It hasn't been that great for me, actually."

He opened his mouth to retort, most likely with something venomous, but hastily closed it. A moment later, he said, "Oh, yes, I nearly forgot. How are things with you and Mary, anyway?"

She flushed, remembering the night her best friend had kissed her. There was a fight, leading to a lengthy falling out. The two still didn't speak, and Mary was dating some Hufflepuff last time she heard. "Horribly."

"I'm sorry," Lysander murmured. "For everything, I mean. I was bloody horrible to you when we were younger."

The funny thing was, Dominique believed him. The boy's apology had been sincere, his gaze unflinchingly meeting her own. She wanted to offer her own request of forgiveness, to tell him that they were both to blame, but she had no idea how. Instead, Dominique moved closer to Lysander, her face inches away from his own beautiful one. He was surprised, as was she, but that didn't stop her from quickly pressing her lips onto his, as he had done to her so many years ago. He kissed back, wrapping strong arms around her waist, and she settled into the moment of bliss. It may not have been her first kiss, but it was definitely the best, and she threw her whole heart and mind into it.

She wished that he would finally be the one.

**vi.**

Teddy Lupin staggered down the snow-covered street, singing a Christmas carol he had learned as a child. He stopped, forgetting the lyrics, but then continued muttering nonsensical words. People pushed aside their curtains, scowling at the drunken young man dancing beneath the streetlights. He remained oblivious, focusing only on a tiny house at the end of the street, where bright red and green lights sparkled against the whiteness of the earth.

Dominique sat on her porch, sipping a cup of hot chocolate. She watched as a new batch of snow fell from the overcast sky and deeply breathed in the cold air. Christmas was close, and she would soon be leaving for the Scamander's cottage to spend the holidays with Lysander and his family. It would be a refreshing change of pace from the hectic Weasley celebrations she was used to, especially since her boyfriend's parents were relatively normal, despite their fascination with nonexistent creatures and radish jewelry.

"Dominique, there you are!"

She stood at the voice, that familiar voice, and looked down the road. Sure enough, Teddy was tripping over his own two feet, stumbling as he made his way towards her. A million emotions – confusion, happiness, bitterness – flashed across her mind. She pulled her coat tighter as he tripped over a mound of snow at the beginning of her walkway, cursing as the cold seeped through his shirt.

"Oh, Teddy." Dominique ran to him, grabbing a hold of his hands. She pulled him up with great effort, scowling as he began to grin stupidly. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing!" he insisted, louder than necessary. "Victoire and I broke up. I needed someone to talk to…"

"So, you came to me."

He nodded, more disoriented than she had ever seen him. His hair was sticking up wildly, his eyes were bloodshot, and his cheek was covered in dirt and a small scratch. Teddy, so collected and strong, was falling apart, and she couldn't help but take pity on him.

"Come on," Dominique said, dragging him forward. "Come inside. It's freezing out here."

She sat him on the couch, tossing a blanket over his wet body, and took a seat beside him. He studied her, like he had that day in the library, and she was once more lost in his gaze. They hadn't spoken for years, besides terse hellos during family get-togethers, but that didn't stop old feelings of adoration from flooding back into her heart. He was still Teddy, after all, her first love.

"You look good, Dom," he whispered, as if the words were too private to say in a louder tone. "Really good. Lysander is a lucky guy."

"Thank you," she replied, cursing the blush that crept into her cheeks. "You would really like Lysander, I think. You two are a lot alike."

He laughed, sadly. "Yeah, but there's one difference."

"What's that?"

"I lost my chance with you, but he's still lucky enough to have his."

She should have instantly stood, demanded that he leave. But her body seemed out of her control as Teddy's hand absentmindedly traveled up and down her arm, inciting a shiver of anticipation. He leaned into her, and she inhaled his musky scent as he kissed her, hard. Her hands tangled into his hair, and he groaned softly into their embrace. He then stood, clumsily leading her into the bedroom at the end of the hall. They fell onto the bed, tumbling in a mass of flailing limbs and cotton sheets. Teddy sent small kisses down her neck, but Dominique's eyes remained opened. She gazed at the ceiling, unable to help but picture Victoire in this same heavenly place, many times before.

She wished that she didn't feel so dirty about the whole thing.

**vii.**

Victoire simply glowed. That was the only word her sister could possibly use to describe how beautiful she looked that day. Her white-blonde hair was swept up in an elegant bun, a constant smile played at her lips, and her gorgeous gown was fit for Cinderella, who couldn't even begin to rival her when it came to loveliness.

"I'm so excited!" Victoire squealed, turning in front of the mirror. "I can't believe that I'm actually getting married."

Dominique smiled, only a little bitter about being forced to wear such a hideous pink bridesmaid dress. "I can. I always thought that you and Teddy were meant to be."

That was a lie, she knew, but it was one that needed to be spoken. Yes, Dominique still loved Teddy with all her heart, and she probably would for the rest of her life; but he always went back to Victoire, no matter what happened between them, and she had accepted that. Lysander was there for her, and she loved him, even if it was in a different way than she loved her sister's fiancé.

"You're absolutely gorgeous, Vicky," Dominique fondly said, wrapping her arms around her sister's small waist. They looked into the mirror – one tall and the other short, one freckled and the other pale, both inexplicably happy – and basked in that moment, before the bride would become Mrs. Lupin.

"Thank you, Dom," Victoire murmured, wiping a stray tear from her eye. "I'm so lucky to have such a great sister, you know that?"

The girls smiled at each other. The eldest leaned forward and placed a quick peck on the younger's cheek. It wasn't a romantic kiss, like all the others, but Dominique believed it was her favorite. Because that kiss held all the love and acceptance she had ever wanted from her sister, every emotion of admiration that she had ever wanted to speak. They were siblings, usually at odds, but they loved one another, and that was all that mattered.

"Well," Victoire confidently said, grabbing the crook of Dominique's arm. "Let's go get married, shall we?"

She wished for her sister's happily ever after.


End file.
